


That’s Just How the Story Goes

by tyranusfan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x08, Gen, Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyranusfan/pseuds/tyranusfan
Summary: Adam and Michael process the revelation that they're just a small part of the Winchesters' story. Tag to 15x08 "Our Father Who Aren't in Heaven."
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 109





	That’s Just How the Story Goes

_Vinson Massif, Antarctica  
Friday_

Adam reclined against the small outcropping of rock and sighed. The vista below was beautiful. Michael had wanted to go as far from anyone as they could when they’d left the Winchesters’ bunker and Adam couldn’t blame him. He figured this was about as far away as they could go and still be on Earth. 

All those years in the frigid depths of the Cage had taught him about true cold, so twenty below zero on the top of Mount Vinson didn’t bother him. Michael’s energy kept him warm from the inside, anyway. Adam sucked in a deep breath and released it, relaxing on the narrow ledge. Michael wouldn’t let him fall—and they could fly in any event—so he didn’t sweat that, either.

His taciturn comrade, on the other hand, was bothering him. Adam glanced over at the mirror image of himself, his slumped form visibly expressing the depression that Adam keenly felt from inside. “You’re quiet.”

“My Father lied to me,” the murmured reply came after a long moment.

Adam offered a wan smile. “Been there.”

Michael frowned. “Humans lie to each other all the time. It isn’t the same.”

“My father’s lies ended up getting me and my mom eaten alive by ghouls.”

The archangel blinked. “A valid point. I apologize for demeaning it.”

They sat silently for a while, letting the Antarctic wind swirl around them. Adam watched Michael for a while, and then finally sighed. “You can talk to me, you know?”

Michael looked at him, eyes peering deeply as if searching for something. After a few moments he seemed to find whatever he was looking for and shrugged sadly. “I was never the favorite. That’s what Castiel said. I was just a ‘little, tiny, part of God’s story.’ Not even the ‘star of the show.’ That’s what he said. And he was right.” 

Adam nodded. “Yeah, I heard him.”

“It’s…troubling to discover that your entire life has been…fiction. I used to have purpose, something to fight for, but now…you must have no idea how that feels.”

Adam jaw dropped open, unable to speak before the first bubble of laughter rose up and threatened to topple him off the rocky ledge. It was a deep, visceral belly laugh, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt anything like it. He fell back against the rocks, felt ice crystals forming on his cheeks, and realized he was laughing so hard that he was crying. 

Michael stared at him, flabbergasted. “Why on Earth are you _laughing_?”

****

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

_9 Years Ago  
The Cage_

Adam curled into a ball, shivering as the hellish cold of the Cage seeped into his bones. He couldn’t stand, couldn’t pass out, and couldn’t die. He could only lie there and wait until Michael needed him again. The archangel was spending most of his time split between titanic duels with Lucifer and punishing Sam for stranding them all in Hell. 

Sam’s screams had faded, so Adam could only assume Michael and Lucifer were fighting once more. They seemed torn between the two hobbies. 

When they needed their vessels, they would simply re-possess him and Sam—once you agreed to an archangel possessing your body, they could come back any time they pleased—and resume their war until he and Sam were too shredded to function.

The possessions weren’t pleasant. Both Michael and Lucifer were too angry to be gentle about it. They tended to blast in and explode out…not that utter destruction of ones body was any escape in Hell. Adam had lost count how many times he’d been shattered and put back together. Sometimes Michael couldn’t wait for Hell’s nature to take its course, and simply repossessed Adam’s corpse, instantly healing it so he could continue the conflict.

Saving the world and ushering in Paradise wasn’t exactly what Heaven had sold it as. Adam would have laughed if breathing hadn’t been so difficult. He was fairly certain one of his lungs was splattered against the nearby wall, along with his left arm.

At least he knew Sam was there with him. His brother was suffering, too—worse than he was—and Adam’s scrambled mind found some scant comfort that he had family there with him. It could be worse; he could be in the Cage alone.

****

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

_4 Years Ago  
The Cage_

Michael circled the perimeter of the Cage again, for the umpteenth time. Lucifer had left with the Winchester and the traitor days earlier, and there were no signs that they were coming back. Why they would release his treacherous brother onto the world again was beyond his understanding, but the fact was he was now alone.

_No, not alone_. The archangel glanced into the depths below, finding his much-abused vessel curled in a corner, suffering. He felt a pang of regret, a relatively new feeling. His life before imprisonment had been one of pride and righteousness. He was his Father’s right hand. A prince in Heaven. A general in command of Heaven’s Host. The good son. The faithful son. The son who would do anything for his Father. He hadn’t been prone to doubt or regret in all his long eons of service to his Father’s cause.

Now, as he looked down at his broken human cellmate, he allowed himself a moment of private doubt. What had his long record of loyalty and service gotten him? Trapped. Abandoned. Forgotten.

No less was true of young Adam Milligan. His brothers had left him behind too, apparently not even sparing him a second thought when they’d broken Lucifer out. _Lucifer!_ What were the human hunters thinking? How could they release such a heinous being back into the world while their own family rotted in the deepest depths of Hell?

Lost in his ruminations, Michael realized that he was drifting closer to Adam, whose desiccated form was growing clearer in the glare of the archangel’s energy. He was crushed and ragged, but the Cage wouldn’t let him die. He decayed until he was nothing but dust, and then regenerated so the process could start all over again. 

It was unfair. Adam was a brave young man. He’d been betrayed by Zachariah and wary of Heaven’s mission for him, but ultimately it had taken relatively little to convince him to take Michael on for the apocalyptic confrontation with Lucifer. He had wanted to help. He had wanted to save the world. He had trusted that Michael’s intentions were good, even after Zachariah’s duplicity had sewn so much doubt.

His bravery had landed him in the very same hellhole. Abandoned and forgotten.

Michael scooped up the boy’s limp body, and slowly began healing him, knitting tattered flesh and restoring his life. Adam’s soul was as strong as ever, and even with his body dormant, Michael could feel its power burning inside.

He took his time. He could instantly heal his vessel by rejoining him, but he didn’t want Adam to experience that shock again. He worked slowly, gently, showing the boy more kindness than he had in the past. Michael resisted admitting that he was _lonely_ ; it was past time to make amends. 

Adam’s mind was as ragged as his body, the punishing environs of the Cage and endless years of fighting with Lucifer having taken a toll on the boy’s sanity. Human minds could only absorb so much, and it was no surprise that Adam’s had snapped. Michael focused his energy and used an iota of his Grace to heal Adam’s tortured mind as well. He took a moment to make a slight adjustment, so that Adam would be unaware of how many centuries had passed during their imprisonment. Time moved differently in Hell than on Earth, and his mortal mind wouldn’t be able to process the unvarnished truth.

Michael let him rest, wrapping his wings around the boy to keep him warm, and pondered what was to become of them. With Lucifer freed, they were now both alone. 

They had only each other.

****

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

_5 Weeks Ago  
Heaven_

Michael was uncertain what to expect when he finally set out through the opened Cage door and flew for Heaven, but what he found wasn’t it.

Heaven was deserted. There were a mere _eight_ fully powered angels trying to manage Heaven and its trillions of souls. A dozen or so more—creations of Lucifer’s son!—were stationed around, mostly in menial tasks for which their somewhat limited powers were suited.

His home had been decimated by war and ongoing power struggles. His fall into the Cage had unleashed chaos. His brother Raphael had been killed battling the traitor Castiel. The scribe Metatron had tried to sieze God’s power, and his machinations had resulted in more death and destruction. Even the Gardner, Joshua, was dead.

“All this because I fell?” Michael murmured, stunned.

“Your Highness, we….” Naomi bowed her head submissively, profound in her sorrow, but she could only recount the various disasters that had befallen them. She was doing what she could to hold the remnants of their home together. He barely heard her explanations. 

“Michael, I’m so sorry,” Adam whispered, sympathetically. 

“I can’t remain here.”

Naomi was surprised. “Sire?”

“Where do you want to go?” Adam asked, ignoring her.

“Anywhere but here.”

With a flap of his wings they returned to Earth. 

****

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

_Vinson Massif, Antarctica  
Friday_

“Why on Earth are you _laughing_?”

Adam struggled to breathe between gales of laughter. “You—hahaha—you were written as a secondary character, a small part in the big story. _I was literally a throwaway!_ I was the one they needed to fall into Hell to keep precious Dean from doing it! One shot and done. Adam’s not important, folks! Sam and Dean are the only stars of _this_ show! HAHAHA!”

Michael appeared troubled. “That’s not true.”

Adam shook his head, panting from the hysterics. “Trust me, Michael, truer words have _never_ been spoken. Well,” he held up a finger and corrected himself. “I think their pet angel is probably a main character by now, but still.”

The archangel appeared annoyed. “Adam, you are no one’s ‘throwaway’ character. I won’t allow that.”

Adam’s eyes welled up a little. He smiled, touched. “That…that means a lot to me, Michael. Thank you.”

“You didn’t accept Dean’s apology.” Michael stated, abruptly changing the subject.

“Ha, Dean’s half-assed apology, and Sam’s bullshit rationalizing of what they did? No. Screw ‘em both.”

“You don’t believe they were sincere.”

“Oh, they meant what they said,” Adam corrected, dropping his fist to punch the ledge lightly in frustration. “But Dean would drop me back in the Pit in a heartbeat if it meant pulling Sam’s nuts out of the fire. He wouldn’t even _hesitate_. Sam, at least, might feel bad about it for a while. But, he’d do the same thing for Dean. I don’t matter to them. Never did.” 

“I understand.” Michael said. “It’s impossible not to notice how the angels have not bothered looking for me since I left. I feel we’ve both been cast aside.”

“All we’ve got is each other,” Adam asserted. “Just like it was in the Cage. You and me.”

The archangel agreed. “We are both but small, insignificant parts of _their_ story.”

Adam laughed again. “Now you’re getting it.”

“Do…do humans experience this often?” Michael asked, hesitantly. “Having their…entire existence turned completely upside down by revelation?”

“Yeah, sure, a lot I guess,” Adam replied. “Well, nothing usually this _cosmic_. I think we’re a little out of the mainstream, here.”

Michael nodded slowly. “Then, it pleases me that we are unique.”

Adam blinked in surprise. “Was that sarcasm? Are you trying to be funny?”

“I don’t have ‘an entire oak tree shoved up my ass.’”

Huffing another laugh, Adam sat up. “I never thought you did. Besides, Castiel is one to talk.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the sun move across the sky. Michael closed his wings around them, shielding them from the chilly, gusting wind.

“I do have a question.”

Michael smiled that patient smile that he often spared Adam. “Anything.”

“You opened that door to Purgatory.”

“Yes.”

“Even though you were wearing those handcuffs that were supposed to trap you.”

“Yes.”

Adam shook his head. “So, I’m betting that you could have just… _murdered_ all three of them any time you wanted. Those cuffs were nothing to you.”

“I would never do that.”

“Why not?”

Michael frowned at him. Adam shrugged. “No, I mean, you _wanted_ to. I felt it. Why didn’t you? They couldn’t have stopped you.”

The archangel considered him for a few seconds, and then shook his head. “I know what it’s like to lose my family, my brothers. I would never do that to you.”

Adam scoffed. “Are you joking again? I want them dead, too.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah! I do. They threw me out like garbage.”

“Lie to yourself, if you must.” Michael said tolerantly. “But, you can’t lie to me. Perhaps not today, but one day, you will forgive them.”

Adam _tsked_. “Today, tomorrow, doesn’t matter. I’ll never forgive them.”

“Yesterday, I never would have believed my Father had lied to me, and I never would have helped someone fight against Him. Things change.”

Adam considered that.

Michael turned his attention to the horizon. “You were right.”

Adam glanced at his friend. “About what?”

“I should have listened to Castiel and the Winchesters. They weren’t lying about my Father.”

“None of what’s going on with your Father is your fault.”

Michael kept his eyes fixed in the distance. “I value your counsel, Adam. I should not have dismissed it. It is just…difficult for me to accept advice from—”

“A human?”

“From someone so young.”

Adam smiled. “So, what now? Are you going to help them? I mean, besides giving them that spell?”

“No.” Michael said firmly. “I want no part of this madness. We are…what did you call it?”

“Laying low.”

“Yes, we are ‘laying low.’ I have had enough of this ‘story.’”

“No argument from me.” Adam said with a smirk.

Michael unfurled his wings. “Where should we go, now?”

Adam pondered that for a short time. “There is—was—a great hot dog place in Duluth. Though, we’re going to need some money for that.”

Michael sighed. “The food and the ‘job’ again. This life is going to take some getting used to.”

****

**END**


End file.
